


fast life fuck slow

by crybaby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Canon Compliant, Consensual Infidelity, Derogatory Language, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Very Light Breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybaby/pseuds/crybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He swallows before he says it, leaning in close enough that his lips brush against the shell of Zayn’s ear when he breathes, ‘I want you to fuck me tonight.’</p><p>- Miami, 2013; Harry gets fucked for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	fast life fuck slow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodka/gifts).



> I'll start off by saying I am sincerly sorry for this mess. I've spent the past near-month knee-deep in writing your zourry prompt but was finally forced to realise that I am only human and would never be able to finish it in time. That being said, I refuse to let the near-25k of angst and feelings I've written for that rot in my docs, so that might possibly one day see the light of day. So, I'm sorry for this. I was in love with all your prompts and couldn't begin to choose which one to write and in the end I mucked it up with _this_ that doesn't even begin to do your prompt justice.
> 
> A big thank you to K and N for the constant cheerleading and then A for making me come to my senses and reassuring me through my dissappointment. The world's biggest thank you to E for beta'ing this despite being sick as a dog and for helping me somehow make this near readable. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title taken from Gone by The Weeknd. Also someone asked me to mention that there is talk about Harry topping, so beware I guess?

As soon as they’re done filming and have had their rounds in the studio showers to wash off layers of makeup and sweat, they’re herded into the van to go back to the hotel. Harry spends the entire ride back with his eyes straight ahead, chewing at his thumbnail nervously. He’s been thinking about it all day, thinking about _Zayn_ all day, and he’s managed to work himself up into a state of extreme nerves and subtle provocation.

 

It’s not like he’s never thought about it before, because to be fair, the thought has been sitting in the back of his mind for the full three years that he’s known Zayn, only coming out of hiding as a small glimmer of curiosity each time he gets his mouth on his cock. It’s only since yesterday it’s been all he can think about, the only thing that he can actually hold his attention for longer than a few minutes.

 

Zayn’s deep in conversation with Louis about something Harry doesn’t bother to listen to over the roar of blood in his ears, but he watches him as his eyes crinkle up at the corners when he laughs, reaching up to ruffle Louis’ hair before recoiling when Louis swats at him.

 

Harry carries on biting at his nail apprehensively until they get back.

 

They transfer from the van to the bus, in a wordless agreement to follow Niall to the lounge at the back as a sort of filming tradition that’s been in place since What Makes You Beautiful, one that dictates the five of them get a little bit pissed together to celebrate concluding another music video.

 

An hour later, Harry’s lost in his own mind and incapable of pretending to be interested in anything other than Zayn, sat on the couch across from him and picking at the label of his beer bottle, looking over at him every so often with the hint of a smile that is pure filth and does nothing to help calm Harry. There’s some or other football match playing on the television mounted on the wall, and Niall’s been talking to him about the last girl he fucked, but Harry’s got an extreme case of tunnel vision that he tries to cure by slugging back three beers in a row before he manages to convince Louis to let him have some of his whiskey.

 

It only makes him more shameless in his staring, chewing at his index finger and giving Zayn bedroom eyes as his mind remains trapped in thoughts of yesterday, of Zayn getting so fucked out his mind with Louis that he’d followed Harry when he’d gone below deck, pushed him up against the counter of the kitchenette with his chest pressed up against Harry’s back and his hands curled tight around his hips. Harry’s always known that Zayn was an easy lay when he was high because of how hot he gets, but he hadn’t been expecting it when Zayn practically folded him over the counter and grinded up against his arse. How he'd pulled Harry's arse flush against his hips and fucked up against him until he'd come, somehow managing to get his come across the back of Harry's shorts so he was forced to rinse them in the loo after getting himself off, biting at his wrist to keep quiet before tucking his cock back into his grey briefs and returning above deck.

 

He and Zayn have been fucking for near a year, ever since Perrie caught Zayn fucking around and gave him a free pass for tour, which, to Harry’s delight, ended up being him. He and Zayn have been fucking for near a year and Harry's fucked him dozens of times, but it's never been the other way round. It's not that he's not curious, it's just that the thought of Zayn inside him terrifies him more than turns him on. Zayn wants it, he knows, and he feels a bit bad every time Zayn's hands slide down the back of his jeans to fondle at his arse and Harry just squirms away until he withdraws. He's just always been put off by the trepidation of it all, the prospect of being ripped apart by a cock far from appetising.

 

But since yesterday, Harry hasn't been able to stop thinking about taking Zayn since he'd bent him over and simulated fucking him, right where anyone on board could've walked in and seen. The thought's been planted, and now he can't stop it from blossoming into thoughts of Zayn pinning him down and fucking him raw.

 

It's the alcohol that propels him towards getting what he's been thinking about, makes him brave enough to get up and follow Zayn half a minute after he gets up to go to the loo, in a manner reminiscent to how Zayn'd followed him yesterday. He slides open the narrow door and steps inside the tiny space, closing the door after himself as his heart beats in his throat and he comes face to face with Zayn while he washes his hands.

 

Zayn frowns at him before his mouth quirks up in a questioning smile. Harry crowds into his space, backing him up until the counter presses into his lower back, kissing him shamelessly and licking into his mouth when Zayn brings both hands to rest on his waist.

 

'Babe,' he laughs, drawing back from Harry's mouth, 'slow down.' Harry dips to kiss down his neck, ignoring him in favour of pressing his hips forward so Zayn can feel how hard he is. Just the hot of Zayn's mouth against his makes him feel like he's short circuiting, his vague desire to get fucked turning into a fully-fledged desperation when he feels Zayn's cock twitch.

 

He swallows before he says it, leaning in close enough that his lips brush against the shell of Zayn’s ear when he breathes, ‘I want you to fuck me tonight.’

 

'Fuck, babe, you serious?' he asks, his voice gone uncharacteristically low in a matter of seconds when his hands slide down to grope at his arse. Harry nods, sucking a bruise under his jaw even though he knows it's risky. 'God babe, slow down, slow down,' Zayn tells him, drawing Harry off him and holding him half and arm's length away to look over him. 'You sure about this? Want me to fuck you?'

 

'Yeah,' Harry affirms, fingers twitching to get his hands back on Zayn. Zayn just nods to himself, licking over his lower lip as he reaches up to run his fingers through Harry's hair, still damp when he pulls lightly and tips his head back to bare his throat.

 

'Okay, we'll go back to the hotel rather than stay, yeah?' Harry nods at the idea, surging forward again to kiss Zayn again before he pulls him off and drags him back to the lounge, depositing him beside Liam. He goes to whisper something low in Louis' ear, then leaves the bus to find one of their handlers to make their plans known. Harry waits impatiently, stealing Liam's drink with a mischievous grin as he tries to hide how hard he is with a hand over his crotch.

 

He gets impatient, standing up with a hand on Niall's shoulder as support. 'M'gonna go back to the hotel, so,' he trails off, offering a short wave before climbing off the bus, running into Zayn and steadying him with a hand on his hip. 'We good?'

 

Zayn nods and Harry spots Preston behind him, offering him a grin before him and Zayn are escorted back to the hotel, smiling when they're caught by iPhone cameras as they climb into the lift. Harry loses his stomach somewhere after the tenth floor, looking at Zayn with the realisation that he's going to be inside him soon.

 

They get out on the twenty-somethingth floor, Zayn speaking to Preston hushed tones while sharing words that make Preston look over at Harry, then back at Zayn, before nodding and leaving Zayn to wrap and arm around his waist, pulling him down the passage until they reach his door.

 

Zayn pulls his key from his pocket and presses it into the slot until the light goes green and he’s pulling Harry in, so that Harry can slam the door and crowd him up against it. He hears the key drop with a dejected pat on the carpet, but he hardly pays it any mind when Zayn rests both hands on his waist and licks into his mouth until he leans back and holds him at a distance, leaves Harry chasing after the taste of him.

 

‘Did you mean it?’ He says lowly, his eyes flashing with something feral that makes Harry’s cock twitch.

 

‘Yeah,’ Harry answers, looking up at him from under his eyelashes, his voice gone a little rough from how turned on he is. Zayn stays standing with his back pressed to the door and Harry just stares at him, his eyes wide as he watches Zayn watch him right back, until Zayn’s eyes flit down to his mouth and he goes crashing in the same time Zayn surges forward and reaches up to curl a hand around the back of his neck. Harry licks into his mouth as he leans his weight forward to get him pinned to the door before Zayn digs the fingers of one hand into his waist and raises the other to wrap around the back of his neck so to manhandle him until their positions are flipped and he’s got him up against the wall. Harry leans his head back and Zayn notices with a satisfied curl of heat in his stomach that he has to tilt his head up, almost smaller than him when he’s got him like this. He slides his thumb to rest over his Adam’s apple, feeling it bob when he swallows and pressing down ever so slightly before leaning back in and claiming his mouth with insistent tongue. Harry scrabbles at him, dragging his nails down his back and inviting him between his thighs as his hands drop to fiddle with his t-shirt, sneaking under the hem and running hot palms all over his skin before leaving lines of red running in parallel down his back. Zayn pushes his thumb down across his throat so that he gasps into his mouth and goes easy when Zayn presses him harder against the wall. His hips jut out so that his cock crushes up against Zayn's thigh through his shorts as Harry runs a hand down over his stomach, skimming at his waistband and flicking his tongue against Zayn’s.

 

‘Fuck,’ Zayn pants after pulling away from him, sliding his hand from his neck upwards, to cup at his jaw. His mouth red and wet and eyes dark when he reaches to pull at his hair with the other, tugging downwards to make Harry look up at him.

 

‘Wanna get you in bed,’ he growls, using his hold on his jaw to bring him back in for a kiss, tasting him like he can’t quite get enough. Harry nods his agreement as Zayn slides his hands down his body, gripping him with one hand on his waist and the other on his hip before he’s pulling him flush to his chest and licking into his mouth. Harry feels dizzy, pressed close so that he can feel his cock against his hip, his cock that’s going to be inside him soon.

 

Zayn starts back-stepping across the room, his hand resting on the small of his back as he kisses him proper, until his knees hit the mattress and he breaks the kiss, drawing back and swapping their positions so he can throw Harry down onto the bed.

 

Zayn crawls on top of him and fits a thigh between his, towering over him with a lascivious grin as he nudges his thigh up between his legs and Harry throws his head back in a moan before Zayn’s hand wraps around his neck and pulls him right back, his thumb resting on his chin to hold his mouth open before he kisses him again. Harry feels like he’s going out of his mind, blood running hot from how Zayn’s touching him and how he curls his fingers in his hair and tugs like he knows Harry likes. Harry runs his hands up his back, touching all of him to save it to memory as Zayn grinds his thigh up against his cock and he shivers. He pulls at his t-shirt as Zayn kisses from his mouth to his jaw, down his neck to suck a bruise into his skin just too high to be hidden by shirt collars. Harry moans again, loud and obnoxious like there’s no one to hear, before he drags his hand down to palm at Zayn’s dick through his shorts.

 

He gropes at the shape of him, working over him through the fabric until Zayn bats at Harry’s hand and sits back, his thighs splayed across Zayn’s. He tugs at the hem of his t-shirt until he strains to sit up a little so he can pull it off and chuck it in the direction of his suitcase. Harry makes a little dissatisfied noise until Zayn copies, laughing at his desperation in the back of his throat as he pulls off his own shirt.

 

‘God,’ Harry groans, eyes tracing over his chest before he meets Zayn’s, ‘wanna suck you,’

 

‘Jesus, you little slag,’ Zayn teases, edging the tips of his fingers into Harry’s waistband to yank down both his shorts and his pants, pushing his legs up to his chest so he can get them both off and leave him bare-arsed against the nice white duvet. He follows straight after, working at his own pants until he can kick them off the bed and settle back in at a close enough distance for Harry to finally get a hand on his cock.

 

He works over him with his wrist bent at an awkward angle before he looks up at him from under his eyelashes to see if Zayn’s going to let him get his way. Zayn just blinks slowly with his mouth twisted up, going easily when Harry presses at his stomach with his palm until he gets down on his back.

 

Harry climbs into his lap and kisses him slow before dragging his mouth down his neck, sliding his lips to fit over the lipstick print between his collarbones and biting down to suck his own mark into his skin. Zayn slides one hand into his hair, curling his fingers and pushing him downwards despite the contradiction of him putting his hand on Harry’s arse to hold him in place as he openly gropes him. He tugs lightly at his hair as Harry swirls the tip of his tongue around the bud of his nipple until it peaks.

 

‘Get on with it, Harry,’ he groans, the hand on his arse drawing back to give him a light smack as he becomes a bit more forceful with pushing Harry’s head southwards. Harry grins against his skin before kissing down his lithe stomach.

 

Zayn spreads his legs to give him space to work as he mouths along the line of dark hair leading to his cock, nosing at him as he gets himself comfortable up on his knees like Zayn likes, so that he can see the curve of his spine and his ass when he blows him. He flicks his tongue against Zayn’s slit before wrapping his lips around him and taking him into his mouth, earning a sharp hair tug from Zayn when he does. There’s something deeply satisfying in it, in the weight of his cock on his tongue. He bobs his head to get him wet, taking him as far as he can with minimal effort before pulling off him with a pop and curling his fingers around his base. He holds his cock still as he tongues at his slit, kitten licking at the head before he dips to mouth at his balls. Zayn pulls at his hair again, and Harry grins to himself before he looks up the line of his body, meeting his eyes and blinking slowly as he angles his cock upwards and licks a long stripe from base to tip before he sucks him back in. He lets his eyes flutter closed then, when Zayn’s hips jump up, so he can fully focus on the task at hand as Zayn’s hips start lifting ever so slightly.

 

Zayn cradles his head, holding him steady and thrusting up gently while Harry concentrates on getting his throat to relax when Zayn fucks up against his gag reflex, giving Harry just enough slack to bob his head over him and get him messy with spit. He rests both hands on his hips, palms flat, before he opens his eyes to look up at him again, blinking back the moisture that threatens to spill from having his throat tested.

 

‘Fuck,’ Zayn grits, carding his fingers through his hair before pressing his thumb to the corner of Harry’s mouth, ‘you’re pretty.’ Harry preens, practically purring around him every time he works a groan out of him. ‘Gonna fuck you, babe,’

 

Harry freezes up a little, choking when Zayn fucks up into his mouth and pulling off to cough and wipe at his eyes. His bravado is fading now at the reminder of what they’re here for and the whiskey is over twenty floors down. Zayn reaches for him by the shoulders and pulls him up his body, until he’s resting in his lap and he’s got Zayn’s cock pressed against the cleft of his arse. He feels a bit panicked again, but Zayn curls his hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, sucking on his tongue until Harry goes pliant and lets himself be rolled onto his back.

 

Zayn slides his mouth down his chest, grazing his teeth against his trembling stomach as he wraps over his cock and works over him slowly. Harry sinks his teeth into his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his face to press his cheek against the duvet. Zayn draws the tip of his tongue in a circle around his bellybutton before flicking the tip of it inside so that Harry makes a choked sound that is part giggle and part whimper.

 

Zayn grazes his teeth against bronzed skin, nosing at the treasure map of fine hair that leads down to his cock. Harry curls his fingers into fists around handfuls of bedding, pulling slightly as he fucks his hips up into Zayn’s hand. He feels Zayn smile against his skin, nipping over the contrast of his tan line and sucking until the skin is tinged with red.

 

He thumbs at his tip to smear the wetness at his slit down at the same time that he dips his head to mouth at his balls. Harry stutters out a moan, body jerking at the feeling before he relaxes into it. Zayn mouths at the one as he rolls the other in his palm, all while rubbing his thumb in little circles just under his cockhead.

 

Harry’s making pathetic little sounds, feeling like he could easily come, his balls pulling tight and thighs tensing and relaxing sporadically, so Zayn takes the opportunity to slide the hand not wrapped around his prick down to knuckle against his taint, pressing down hard in an estimation of where his spot is. Harry’s breath leaves him in a loud gasp while Zayn mouths at the sensitive skin where his groin and thigh meet to suck a dark bruise before pushing himself up on his elbows.  He knees backwards until he has enough space to get his hands on Harry’s waist and roll him over onto his front.

 

Zayn presses himself along his back, nuzzling behind his ear as Harry’s breath quickens. ‘Do you want me to carry on, babe?’ he asks in a soft voice, ‘We can stop if you like?’

 

Harry doesn’t answer, just arches his back against where Zayn’s cock is a hard line against the curve of his spine. ‘I’m not going to do anything more unless you tell me you want it,’ he says, voice low and gravelly and Harry shivers down his spine.

 

Harry groans, partly impatient and partly embarrassed before mumbling, ‘Want you to keep going,' and then, 'Want you to fuck me.'

 

Zayn hums pleasedly before he presses a kiss to the sweaty nape of his neck, following with a collection that dots down between the angel wings of his shoulder blades. He plants butterfly kisses down the line of his spine, until he’s shifting back to be kneeling at the foot of the bed in between the spread of Harry’s thighs. He kisses at the dimples of Harry’s spine at the same time that he runs his hands up the inners of his thighs, encouraging them to spread wider until Harry understands and edges up onto his knees.

 

Zayn reaches for the lube to get his fingers wet before he glides the palm of his hand up the back of Harry’s thigh, using his other to spread him open slowly. Harry tenses up at being exposed, reaching up to grab at one of his pillows so he can pull it down and wrap his arms around it. Zayn tries to soothe him by just stroking at his thigh the best he can while trying not to smear lube on him.

 

‘You still good?’ He questions, tracing his hand up to hover over where he’s pink and freshly clean. Harry takes a moment to answer with a small affirmative, shuffling his knees against the slip of the bedding nervously. Zayn bends himself down at an awkward angle so that he can brush his lips against Harry’s arsecheek as some sort of attempt at comfort. ‘I’m gonna make you feel good, yeah? No need to be nervous,’

 

Harry makes an unintelligible sound in his pillow before he nods his head slightly, arching his back so that his arse hitches up. Zayn sits back and gets his hands back to where they were, one holding him open as he brings two fingers to pet at his tiny hole. Harry’s tense from his shoulders to his toes, but he forces himself to relax as Zayn applies pressure with the tip of his index finger, until he can press it in until the first knuckle.

 

Harry exhales into his pillow as Zayn eases his finger in slowly until his knuckles are pressed up against his rim, and he can twist his finger side to side. Harry’s body clamps down around him, gone completely stiff, so Zayn slides the hand on his arsecheek up to rub across his lower back before curling around his hip.

 

‘God, Harry,’ he grits out, ‘you’re so tight, fuck. You’re doing so well, babe, so good for me,’

 

Harry grunts into the pillow before coercing himself into relaxing enough for Zayn to curl his finger slightly. He’s so alarmingly tight around him that Zayn almost feels nervous about fucking him, but he’s so soft and hot on the inside that his nerves are overpowered with a desperation to get inside him.

 

‘I’m going to give you another, okay Harry?’ He offers as warning, teasing the tip of his index finger against his rim as he pulls his middle halfway out. Harry takes a deep breath in at the same time that Zayn slips a second finger in alongside the first smoothly.

 

Harry’s hips squirm back against his hand, which Zayn takes as a sign good enough to slowly spread his fingers and open him up. He draws both fingers out to add more lube before pressing back in and stretching them apart slowly. He rocks them into Harry slowly to get him used to it, curling them gently and feeling along inside him until his fingers nudge at his spot accidentally and Harry moans into his pillow, rigidity dripping out of him and giving way to a wave of relaxation as he presses back into Zayn’s hand, turns his cheek against his pillow to look back at him.

 

‘Zayn,’ he strains, his voice gone unbelievably high in his throat, ‘fuck, do that again,’

 

Zayn bites into his lower lip to stop his smug grin from spreading as he curls his fingers again and teases his fingertips against where he’s soft. Harry’s eyes fall shut and he moans again, from somewhere deep in his chest. He’s easy for it, starting to fatten up again from where his cock's been flagging between his legs as Zayn rubs his fingers in tight circles around his spot until he's got Harry rocking back against him and sweating across his shoulders. He makes to reach between his legs but Zayn slaps at his wrist. ‘Not yet,’ he growls, getting a whimper from him as response. Zayn spreads his fingers before reaching for the lube again and uncaps it to drizzle a little more over where is rim is pulled taut around his fingers.

 

It feels so good, like sparks of electricity shooting from his core. It’s euphoric, and Harry doesn’t understand how he’s gone so long without it, afraid of what he’s feeling. It’s unexpected, how good he feels with his arse up and Zayn fucking his fingers into him to get him ready for his cock, but Harry doesn’t think he can ever go back to not having this, the spark of touching an open fuse.

 

Harry spreads his legs further apart like he wants more, arching his hips back so that his arse tilts up to try and get his fingers deeper inside him. He grinds back against his palm and makes soft sounds into the pillow as he stretches around Zayn. Zayn spreads his fingers into a V and Harry’s breath wheezes out of him as he leans in to flick his tongue between his fingers.

 

‘Oh god,’ Harry gasps, rubbing his cheek against the pillow cover as his eyebrows climb up his forehead and Zayn does it again, licking between his fingers as Harry bucks backwards and spreads his legs impossibly wider, tendons at the tops of his thighs straining. He slides his mouth to suck a love bite into his arsecheek so he can keep fucking his fingers into him, rubbing over his spot confidently so that Harry presses his forehead into the bed and mouths out profanities.

 

He alternates between rubbing against his spot and rubbing around it, making Harry’s thighs tremble as he bites against his arse before giving his bum an upwards smack, hand going to curl around his hip straight after and hold him still so that he can nail against where he’s sensitive until his toes are curling and he’s whimpering Zayn’s name like a hushed prayer.

 

He leans in again to lick against where Harry’s stretched around his fingers, sloppy with it until Harry’s arse is wet with spit and slick and Harry’s babbling and sounds hardly human as he rides back against his face and fingers.

 

Zayn gets up onto his knees and removes his hand from Harry’s hip to wipe across his mouth before dropping it back down to his waist and pressing down until he’s bowed beautifully, arse opened up from the change in angle as Zayn fucks him with his wrist so strained he vaguely worries about carpel tunnel.

 

‘Go on Harry, touch yourself,’ he all but purrs, watching as Harry reaches up to pull at his hair at the same time that reaches down to curl his hand around himself, ‘make yourself come for me.’

 

Harry ricochets between fucking into his fist and back onto Zayn’s fingers, wailing into the pillow loud enough that Zayn’s sure there will be complaints, until he clenches down tight around Zayn’s fingers and lets out a pitiful cry, coming so hard onto the duvet below him that he starts to shake.

 

Zayn draws his fingers out of him and flips Harry over onto his back, away from the wet patch. He throws his forearm across his face, chest heaving and flushed from neck to navel as he tries to catch his breath, his come-covered cock resting along the cut of his hip. Zayn crawls up the bed to fit between his thighs and cup at his jaw with his come covered hand. Harry makes a sound of dissatisfaction at the sticky fingers against his skin, but it dies in his throat when Zayn slots their mouths together, sucking in all his soft puffs of outbreath. He kisses him until he’s relaxed and boneless beneath him, and his cock is slowly softening where it’s pressed between them. Zayn presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before kissing along his jaw and sucking against his pulse point.

 

Harry whines from beneath him, his thighs tensing on either side of his hips before Zayn props himself up on his elbows to look down at him. He’s a mess, from his wide eyes to his stomach covered in come. He drops down onto his side next to Harry before rolling him over onto him, his hands tracing down his back to rub in comforting circles. They lay in silence until Harry manages to control his lungs.

 

 

‘Sorry,’ Harry murmurs, his voice shot from sucking cock, ‘we can try some other time.’

 

‘Oh no, babe,’ Zayn breathes as he draws back and raises an eyebrow, sliding a hand down between them to curl around his sensitive cock. Harry gasps, eyebrows pinching together and mouth falling open as his hips stutter back, almost trying to escape Zayn’s touch. He’s got this look in his eyes that makes something inside Harry spark and his hair standing on end. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

 

He squeezes tight around his cock and strokes him until he’s hard again, before he’s dragging him into his lap fully, thighs splayed over his hips. He can feel his cock where it’s straining up against his thigh. He brushes his lips against the shell of Harry’s ear, and Harry feels so completely oversensitive, subjected to an overwhelming onslaught of sensation that is Zayn’s hot skin beneath his, mouth against him, hand tight around him. ‘Gonna fuck you ,’ he breathes, and Harry chokes on air, his body a livewire as Zayn’s voice echoes around his skull, ‘have you fuck yourself on my cock until you come.’

 

Harry rolls his hips so that his wet prick drags against his stomach when Zayn curls his hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in for a filthy kiss. Harry squirms in his lap, until he’s got Zayn’s cock pressing between his legs. Zayn runs his hands all over him as Harry ducks his head to nip at his neck, mouthing under his jaw as Zayn touches all of him, grazing his hands up and down his sides and fitting between them to thumb at his nipples so that Harry’s cock drips wet onto his stomach, before sliding his hands around to squeeze at his arse, fingers slipping into the spread of his cheeks and petting at where he’s wet and open with lube and spit. He presses two fingers into him before sliding his other hand up his back and curling in his hair, tugging him backwards sharply until he’s sat up over his hips and Zayn lets his hand slide down from his hair, palm flat and fingers splayed as he roams down over his stomach before curling his hand around his cock where it’s straining up against his abs, his knuckles brushing against his tummy.

 

 

Harry's liquid courage has faded almost completely, but he doesn’t feel terrified anymore, more whirring with anticipation than anything else as he digs around for the lube in the tangle of bedding, popping the lid up with his thumb before sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he gets his palm slick. Zayn’s hands rest on his hips as he looks up at him with his eyebrows pinched together as Harry reaches behind himself to slide his hand around his dick and get him slick.

 

 

His hands run down to rest against his thighs, nails biting in bluntly as Harry squeezes around his cock, bracing himself with a hand planted on Zayn’s stomach as he gets up on his knees and positions himself over his cock before he’s bearing down.

 

 

His breath catches in his throat when he nudges inside of him, a part of him sighing while the rest of him tenses up because it’s hardly anything yet but feels like so much and he drops his head down so that his chin tucks in against his chest and he grits his teeth. Zayn slides a hand back up onto his waist, fingers scalding hot where they brand his flesh.

 

 

‘You good?’ he grits out, fighting against the urge to hold him still and fuck up into him. Harry nods shakily before he straightens, fist still wrapped around the root of Zayn’s dick to keep him steady as he brushes his hair out of his face with his wrist.

 

 

‘Yeah, fuck,’ Harry gasps, feeling out of breath as he sinks down lower before stilling halfway. It burns, but a nice type of burn that he feels in his teeth. It feels like Zayn is splitting him in two, his cock the biggest thing in the world when it’s halfway inside him, feeling so big that Harry almost expects to see the outline of it when he looks down. ‘You’re-’ he starts, cutting off in a groan when Zayn's cock nudges against his prostate. ‘You’re gonna have to do the rest,’ he attempts again, his voice shot and low and he hardly makes any sense to himself, but Zayn understands, repositions his hands to pinch at his waist and forces him down at the same time that he pushes up. He’s searing hot around Zayn as he fucks up into him, almost painfully tight around him.

 

 

It burns and he feels so full, like his body’s shrunk in the wash. It’s teetering on the edge of too much, but there’s something so good in it, in the ache and stretch that ripples through him as his arse settles down against Zayn's hips and he’s completely tucked inside him.

 

 

He feels lightheaded, mouth incapable of closing as his mind clouds over, like everything is stuffed with cotton wool. The spark of it just bleeds through him until he can’t keep still, rolling his hips to get used to the feeling of Zayn inside him. ‘God, you feel so good,’ Zayn groans, tipping his head back when the sight of Harry starting to enjoy himself becomes too much, ‘fucking made for this.’

 

 

 

Harry reaches up to pull at his hair as he starts bouncing himself in Zayn’s lap, tugging so that he can’t stop himself moaning as Zayn’s cock fills him up. Zayn digs his fingers into his waist to try and encourage him faster until he gets fed up and lifts Harry off his dick, getting him onto his back in a millisecond before reaching for the lube again to slick up his cock as he kneels between Harry’s spread legs.

 

Zayn leans over him, fitting their mouths together in a sloppy kiss as he lines himself up with Harry’s hole, slipping a hand under his knee for leverage as he presses forward, cock sinking into him. Harry gasps for breath, turning his head at the feeling of Zayn slowly filling him up and stretching him open from a different angle. He still feels a bit like he’s being ripped apart, but there’s something in it that makes his toes curl, mouth open around a groan that he’s not sure is from pain or pleasure. Zayn stills to kiss him again, resting their foreheads together so that their noses brush as he starts pushing in again, so deep inside Harry that he’s not sure if he can take anymore, until Zayn takes a deep breath and buries himself to the hilt with a quick snap. Harry can’t breathe, his chest heaving as he reaches down to press his fingertips against where Zayn is pressing inside him.

 

He claws down his back, digging his nails to get a grip on him as Zayn nips at his shoulder and starts rocking his hips. ‘God,’ Harry whimpers, throwing his head back and baring his neck. ‘Zayn, fuck-’ He cuts off with a wail when Zayn draws out and fucks back in hard.

 

‘Fuck, you’re gorgeous,’ Zayn mutters, his voice clipped as he fucks into him and finds Harry’s mouth again and kisses him viciously. Harry cries out when he brushes up against his spot again, his whole body flooding with electricity as Zayn starts to fuck him so hard that he feels like he could faint. His palm slips against the mattress under the crook of Harry’s knee, before he hooks his hand into the crease and pushes his thigh to his chest with his thumb pressing against the inside of his knee and middle finger against the outside, using it as leverage to fuck him harder until he’s nearly fucking the air out of Harry’s lungs.

 

Harry grips onto his biceps for purpose, digging his nails in to form little crescents. Zayn bears down, leaning all of his weight into the hand pinning Harry’s thigh down before he reaches up to curl his hand around Harry’s neck, pressing down just enough for Harry to feel dizzy and amazing. ‘God, you’re a little slut,’ he spits, driving into Harry so hard the bed knocks against the wall. Harry keens, squeezing his eyes shut as Zayn drives his thrusts against his spot hard enough to drive his voice into falsetto. He can’t bring himself to feel self-conscious for the sounds he’s making, inhuman noises coming out as a rasp as Zayn rations his air supply.

 

He keeps him pinned and fucks into him unremittingly, grunting as he presses down harder on Harry’s throat and makes him see stars until he comes inside him with a low moan, hips stuttering against his arse as he lets up on Harry’s neck. Harry moans when he pulls out, pushing both Harry’s thighs to his chest and folding him in half before he smacks his arse. ‘God, look at you,’ he groans, and Harry turns to press his hot cheek to the cool bedding because he can _feel_ his come dripping out of him, down the cleft of his arse, ‘Filthy little slag,’

 

He pulls him into his lap by his hips before pressing two fingers inside him and rubbing relentless circles against his spot as he curls his hand around Harry’s cock. The touch alone has him curling inwards, his throat rough and sore as he wails and comes all over himself for the second time. Zayn teases it out of him, fisting him loosely until Harry’s twitching and shaky.

 

‘God,’ he pants, squirming against the wet warmth dripping out of his arse as he tries to wriggle up the bed so to close his legs. Zayn stops him with hands anchoring his hips against the mattress. ‘Oh, I’m not done with you yet,’

 

Harry lets out a shocked shaky breath before Zayn flips him over and manhandles him up onto his hands and knees. Harry listens as he works his hand over himself to keeps himself fully hard, before he’s resting both hands on the swell of his arse and pulling him apart. It feels humiliating in the best way, knowing that Zayn can see how wet his is with his come.

 

Zayn holds his hips still as he presses the blunt head of his cock against him, nudging forward slightly and just teasing at him. Harry cries out, slipping down onto his elbows as Zayn smacks his arse and spreads him wider. He shadows over his back then, one hand sliding up to curl in his hair as he presses his mouth up against his ear. ‘You want me to stop, babe?’

  
Harry shakes his head because he’s incapable of saying no to Zayn, burying his face in the bedding as Zayn leans back to kneel behind him again. He tugs at Harry’s hair sharply, so that his sensitive cock twitches and he cries out, before his traces his hand down the back of his neck and just presses down slightly. Harry can hardly breathe and he feels like he’s been set alight, burning from Zayn’s touch as he digs his fingers back into his arse and holds him open as he teases at Harry’s rim. His hand slides down his back as he presses his hips forward and his cock slips back inside him.

 

Zayn presses him down against the mattress, palm pressing down between his shoulder blades and Harry feels lightheaded, past overwhelmed and into the territory of dazed as Zayn digs his nails into the skin of his back, fingers of his other hand splayed across his arse cheek as he spreads him open and fucks in so deep Harry’s toes curl. It’s too much too soon, Zayn barely giving him a second before he’s drawing out and fucking back in in one long smooth stroke, forcing him open. It’s too much but it’s so good, and Harry can’t do anything but press his face into the pillow and groan.

 

‘That good, babe?’ Zayn laughs from behind him, scratching his hand down his back before curling around his waist to press him down and deepen the arch of his back. Harry can just gasp as answer, split wide open and still wet with his come. ‘God, look at you,’

 

His voice is low and raspy and Harry feels lost in it as his words wrap around him. ‘You filthy little slag,’ he grunts, snapping his hips forward to push Harry up the bed. Harry groans as he pulls at handfuls of bedding and Zayn’s hand draws back to smack at the upturn of his arse. ‘You’re already gagging for it.’

 

Harry can only moan as Zayn grips onto his waist hard enough that his nails bite into the soft skin with a dull burn. ‘God, harder, please-‘

 

‘Look at you, begging already’ Zayn tuts, screwing his hips into him slowly, ‘fucking filthy.’ Harry cries out into the mattress when Zayn draws out and fucks into him hard, doing as requested and using his hold on him to keep him still. ‘Gonna fuck the come right out of you.’

 

He presses in deep until Harry can feel the tickle of his pubic hair against his skin, Zayn swatting at his flank so that he clenches down around him. ‘God, that’s beautiful, babe,’ he grunts, smacking him again so that Harry flinches forward.

 

‘Oh God,’ Harry repeats, his voice gone high and hoarse in his throat as Zayn snaps his hips against his arse. Zayn digs his fingers into the meat of his arse cheek, pulling him apart to look down at where they press together. He opens up so nicely, his hole wet and stretched around him as he babbles and pleads into the comforter. His tight body is made to take cock.

 

He cranes his neck to spit down onto where they’re joined together, rubbing it into his rim with his thumb while Harry wails, too full and too sensitive and too raw but aching for Zayn to just fuck him harder and make him come.

 

Harry feels distantly embarrassed for what a spectacle he’s making, ridiculously loud and hardly in control of the pathetic sounds he’s letting out and he’s so overexposed as Zayn just teases a finger against him and God, it’s so much, so good. Zayn draws his hand back to smack his arse again, so that it jiggles slightly and flushes red with his handprint. Harry shrieks when Zayn rams against his spot and Zayn grins, bracing his hand on his lower back and pressing his waist down against the mattress to nail at it, so that Harry starts howling and near shaking.

 

His sweaty hands slip against the sheets, grabbing at handfuls as he turns his cheek against his pillow and looks back at Zayn with blown eyes and red mouth. ‘God, Zayn, need your hand,’

 

Zayn nods, letting up on his waist to brush his hair back out of his face before leaning down to fit along Harry’s back, sliding his palm down over the sweat-slick skin of his stomach to curl around his cock. Harry mewls, fucking back against his hips now that Zayn’s not restraining him as Zayn circles his thumb over his tip, pressing his sharp nail against his slit so that Harry sobs and a dribble of precome leaks out from his head.

 

‘That good, Harry? Wanna come for me’ Zayn asks condescendingly, hand slipping over his prick and using his prefuck as slick while Harry spasms around him, clenching down as his thighs tense up. ‘Go on, babe, show me what a little slut you are,’

 

Harry buries his face into the cloud of bedding as he comes, his ears ringing as fire licks at every inch of him. It feels like heaven and hell, painful in the best way as he comes near-dry onto the duvet, letting out sounds he didn’t know he was capable of.

 

Zayn pulls out and kneels behind him, working over his cock fast until his come splatters scalding hot against his lower back, then a dash striped over his hole and down his taint. Harry tries to catch his breath, tilting his chin up just enough so that he can get air into his lungs as he listens to Zayn pant behind him. Zayn runs his fingers through the mess streaked across his lower back, rubbing it into his skin before he drags his fingers down and presses two fingers into him.

 

Harry whimpers, leaning kneeing forward to get away from it while Zayn just laughs in his throat. He sits down at the head of the bed and feels come trickle out his arse, a disgusting part of him basking in the dirty feeling of it. He feels sweaty and probably looks a mess, red faced and spitty. It’s only when he rubs across his cheeks that he realises he’s got wetness smeared across them, his eyelashes clumped together from tears he doesn’t remember having.

 

Zayn’s flopped onto his back, head hanging off the foot of his bed as he pants. Something pleased and filthy curls in Harry’s tummy that he did that to him, got him sweaty and exhausted. He stretches his leg out to kick at his thigh, so that he groans and sits up.

 

‘Fuck,’ he sighs, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s ankle, ‘that was amazing.’

 

Harry tries to smile, wants to say the same, but his throat feels like he’s swallowed a handful of needles. They and the bed are both covered in sweat and come, so Zayn pulls him to his feet and into the bathroom, switching on the shower before crowding him up against the frosted glass of the door.

 

Zayn washes over him gently, his hands slow-moving and soapy as he rubs circles across Harry’s chest and stomach to wash away his come, then around to massage at his arse before he cleans him off with tender touches and kind fingers. He washes his hair for him, because Harry feels too boneless to do anything but focus on staying vertical.

 

The room is thick with the smell of sex and Harry doesn’t put up a fight when they walk through the adjoining door into hiss room to collapse on the bed. Zayn wrestles him under the duvet with a fond smile before Harry makes grabby hands at him to make him join him, but Zayn just leans over him and kisses his forehead.

 

‘Be right back, yeah?’

 

Harry nods and snuggles back into the feather pillows as Zayn goes back to his room to get his phone and his smokes, slipping out onto the balcony once he returns. Harry focusses on the low murmur of his voice as he calls Perrie, trying to stay awake so that he can make sure that Zayn ends up in bed with him.

 

He falls asleep before he’s even finished his cigarette.


End file.
